


is this what they call the abyss?

by sinjoong (undeliveredtruth)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Exhibitionism, Idols, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Sort of? - Freeform, Yes they fuck while they're live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:47:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25601578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undeliveredtruth/pseuds/sinjoong
Summary: “Wooyoung-ah, you said you’d do a morning live! Did you forget?”Oh, that. Goddammit.“Oh, fuck. Can I do it in like—““Do it now,” San whispers in his ear, cock buried all the way inside Wooyoung. Wooyoung half turns to him, catching the corner of San’s eyes. His eyebrow is raised. He…He must be going nuts. Is this a dream?[Translation in Russian availablehere!]
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 17
Kudos: 451





	is this what they call the abyss?

**Author's Note:**

> Hah Em can you believe the first thing we write for each other is nasty ass written in 3 hours woosan smut (ish because its soft now)? Because I can huh, it honestly makes the most sense lmao...... Thank you for being my kink soulmate even after such a short time hhhhh, I'm excited for more of the stuff we will produce heh. <3
> 
> Sister work [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25601587)!

In hindsight, letting San sleep on his bed the night before hadn’t been the greatest idea.

One because Yeosang, for some reason, is too nice to tell them to fuck off and shut the hell up when they’re not being quiet enough (which, to be fair, is often, because Wooyoung has a Pavlov reflex and gets excited when San as much as gets his mouth on his nipple) and prefers to leave to the hyungs’ room, and two, because San knows how to get what he wants.

And what he wants is always to see Wooyoung ruined.

7 AM on a Wednesday and Wooyoung already has three fingers sliding slowly in and out of him, and San’s lips attached to the back of his neck in a wet, open-mouthed kiss.

“San-ah… San-ah, come on,” Wooyoung begs, hand wrenched tight in San’s long, black hair, still kind of sticky and wet from the product in it from yesterday’s shoot. He hadn’t bothered to shower when he came home; he just pushed Wooyoung into his room, helped him climb up to his bunk, and rode him so hard Wooyoung saw stars when he looked into San’s eyes.

San smiles on the back of Wooyoung’s neck, digging his teeth into the curve between his shoulder and collarbone. Back pressed to San’s front, Wooyoung feels San’s hard-on dig into the side of his ass, pressing against him with every thrust of his fingers inside Wooyoung.

San is avoiding his spot, Wooyoung knows, because after this long, San can slide his fingers into him and nail it on the first try. Instead of getting him off, San is _teasing._ Sliding them as deep as he can, stretching Wooyoung’s rim across their base, where they don’t quite overlap.

It sounds _filthy._ Wet with lube, each press of San’s fingers inside him pulls out moans from Wooyoung; that’s how he likes it. Wet, so much so that he feels the lube sliding down his thighs when San pulls them out, hooking a thumb on his hole instead.

“Will you fuck me today or will I have to go find someone else who will?” San freezes behind him. _Huh,_ Wooyoung grins to himself, satisfied. “Maybe Mingi or Yunho are willing, I kinda want—“

_Smack._

“San! What the _fuck!_ ”

And San’s fingers slide inside him again, except this time there’s four and _more_ lube, sticking everywhere to Wooyoung, falling down the back of his thigh and to the sheets. Wooyoung’s protests die on his tongue because he feels _so full_ , except he just wants to get fucked more now, and the side of his ass where San smacked him burns so deliciously he grinds back on the fingers in him.

“Do you want dick so bad you’d be willing to go to anyone for it?” San whispers in his ear, pressing his fingers as deep as he can, crooking them up and keeping them there. Prodding. _Fuck._

 _Yes_ , the answer is _yes_ , Wooyoung is a self-admitted cockslut and he _lives_ for something in him all the time. San should know better, because 95% of the time it’s him inside of Wooyoung.

“Do you want me to beg? Because I will.”

“Begging is worthless if you don’t mean it, baby,” San whispers, taking his earlobe between sharp teeth and biting at it hard enough to hurt.

Mmm, okay, maybe Wooyoung isn’t wired enough yet. Maybe—

San smacks him again, on the other cheek this time, pushing a muted scream out of Wooyoung’s mouth. “San…”

“You feel so good around me, Young-ah. You’re so wet, bet I could slide my whole hand in there.”

 _Oh fuck._ Wooyoung moans, arching back to get San deeper. They hadn’t tried that again ever since they had a free house and a few days off at San’s place, and San shoved him onto his childhood bed and worked him open for hours before he slid the top of his thumb in alongside his four fingers and Wooyoung came five seconds after, splattering come all the way up to his chin.

If only they’d have time to do that kind of stuff more…

Wooyoung doesn’t respond, but feels San taking his fingers out, Wooyoung’s hole clenching around nothing. _Yes,_ finally, Wooyoung hears San lube himself up, and trembles with anticipation for the feeling of San sliding into him. For as much as he talks about big things iside him, San’s cock, perfectly sized, curved up to hit Wooyoung’s spot right on if he fucks into him three quarters of the way in… the stuff of dreams. Wooyoung _would_ beg for that. Has on many instances.

San slides his cock between his cheeks, teasing the head on his rim. Wooyoung clenches his fingers in the sheets and waits, because he knows from experience that San can have way less patience than him and he’ll give in if Wooyoung doesn’t fire him up. And then he moves in, squeezing an arm around Wooyoung’s waist, rearranging him so San can comfortably slide in—

 _“Wooyoung!”_ Three bangs on his door, courtesy of Hongjoong.

Oh, he has to be fucking _kidding_ Wooyoung. Jesus, Hongjoong can just choose the worst fucking moments to… fucking hell.

“What?” Wooyoung screams back, tugging San’s arm tighter around him.

The fucker slides in. _Damn_ , does that feel good. Wooyoung lets out a small moan, coughing right after to hide it.

_“Wooyoung-ah, you said you’d do a morning live! Did you forget?”_

Oh, that. Goddammit.

“Oh, fuck. Can I do it in like—“

“Do it now,” San whispers in his ear, cock buried all the way inside Wooyoung. Wooyoung half turns to him, catching the corner of San’s eyes. His eyebrow is raised. He…

He must be going nuts. Is this a dream?

_“If you said you were gonna do it, do it! We have a schedule this afternoon, come on.”_

“Seriously. Turn it on.”

“San-ah…” Wooyoung whispers. That’s just… “Are you gonna wait in the corner with your cock wet then?”

“Umm, no,” San replies, matter-of-fact. _What the_ _fuck?_

This has to be a joke.

“I’ll do it now,” he screams back to Hongjoong, who yells out an okay. There are footsteps. He’s leaving.

Oh god. Why is he turned on? Why is there a stir in his stomach? 

“San-ah,” Wooyoung says, seriously. “You can’t make a noise.”

“I know, Young-ah. I won’t move.”

This is messed up on _so_ many levels. Wooyoung picks up his phone and with trembling hands, opens the VLive app. San pulls him closer into him, so they’re pressed together head to toe, and he’s secure in San’s arms. He tests it out; he can’t move. Even if he moves as much as he can, there isn’t enough room for noise.

San moans when Wooyoung wriggles up on him, his arm tightening around Wooyoung. “Do that again and I won’t be able to hold back.”

Wooyoung trembles. This is the most insane thing he’s ever done. Ever. By far. Not even hooking up in the Inkigayo bathrooms, or wearing a plug during an interview, felt as unnerving as this.

But in a good way.

Careful to select the ‘voice only’ option, double and triple checking it before he puts the title in, he puts his phone further away from him.

And presses start.

 _Oh god._ _Oh god._

“Hello,” he starts in a chirpy tone, happy to notice his voice doesn’t sound off. He focuses intently on his phone, making sure to press the camera out of paranoia as he turns it to him to read the comments. The viewers count is steadily increasing, excited comments flying across the screen.

He can almost forget he’s sitting here _with San’s dick inside of him._

“Are you all having a good morning? I was bored for 10 minutes before going to practice, so I thought I’d come on,” he says, and levels his voice steady. “Where are you?” he reads a question, “I’m hanging around in my room.”

Hanging around. Yes. Exactly that. San’s hot breath on the back of his neck, his arm digging into Wooyoung’s waist, him pressed as deep as he can inside of Wooyoung.

He starts reading and answering to comments as much as he can. People suspect the voice only VLive is because of the comeback, which is in someway true; Wooyoung thinks of the now platinum blonde hair on his head, and almost laughs.

As time passes by, he almost actually forgets the position that he’s in. Almost being the key word—

“Ah, we’re actually practicing—“ because San chooses when he’s halfway through answering a question to rock deeper inside of him, hand on Wooyoung’s crotch keeping him close to him.

 _Fucking hell._ He wordlessly turns around to San, mouth open, cutting off his answer, because he’s _so deep_ he just punched Wooyoung’s train of thought out.

San shrugs like it’s a mistake, _sorry,_ except when Wooyoung turns around, he _does it again_ , and Wooyoung exhales a hard breath, unexpected, almost slapping a hand over his mouth. But that would make it more obvious.

There’s no noise, but Wooyoung startles anyway, losing his train of thought. “Ah, sorry…” and he thinks of an excuse, quick, “someone just came in to tell me I’m almost late for practice.”

And San just keeps going. Wooyoung could—he could surely use their safe gesture, and San would stop, but…

He doesn’t want to. The feeling running through his veins is insane. Nothing that he’s ever experienced before, and surely nothing that he will again. Excited, on the edge.

San rocks harder into him, no noise, and Wooyoung takes a shaky breath. “Who? Say… say hello,” his voice almost breaks.

And without fail, without skipping a motion, San smooths out his voice and presses a hand to Wooyoung’s mouth. “Hello, everyone. I’m here to drag Wooyoung away.”

Right away, the chat bursts with San comments. Wooyoung bites his lip under San’s hand, feeling some sort of way about them, and San stops, burying himself deep into Wooyoung again.

He knows… San knows when it’s too much. Wooyoung feels the noise bubbling up in his throat, and wills it down. Pulls San’s hand down.

“I have to go everybody,” and he mimicks crying, “but we’ll see you—” San fucks into him _hard,_ hand suddenly tugging at him, making Wooyoung let out the hardest breath yet, one that resembles a moan way more than anything else, and his mind _blanks._

 _Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck_ it feels so good, and Wooyoung just stares at his phone, sees the little notification from Hongjoong, the _‘What are you doing’_ and just…

San reaches over with the hand that was just on his cock, prodding at Wooyoung. Wooyoung coughs, pretending he choked, and wills his voice down to say goodbye like he just was interrupted. San follows with a laugh, and it all seems normal, and presses the little button, and Wooyoung begs all gods that this won’t be reuploaded…

and when the little screen goes off showing that it’s done, San fucks up into him _so hard_ he sees stars, and Wooyoung lets out the biggest cry.

 _Fuck._ Fuck this, and fuck San, and fuck everything. San pulls out, and Wooyoung whines at the loss, turning on his back to wrap his hands around San’s neck and bury his face in his collarbone as San slides back into him and builds a neckbreaking pace right from the start, punching muffled moans out of Wooyoung.

“Fuck, you’re so… you drive me crazy, do you know, Wooyoung? How insane you make me?” San whispers in Wooyoung’s ear, slowing down to deep, slow thrusts, and Wooyoung feels the tears well up in his eyes. “I just… I just can’t stop looking at you.”

And many people look at Wooyoung. Many people listen to Wooyoung nowadays, know him, _see him_ and he’s gotten used to it from the cowering fear that was there before, but…

No one looks at Wooyoung like San does. No one ever will.

Of that he’s sure.

“IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou—“ Wooyoung whispers, and San pulls his head up from his neck, so he can look into Wooyoung’s eyes as Wooyoung’s confession spills as clearly as the tears from his eyes. Sliding down his temples and to the pillow, hot and aching.

San kisses him, surely tasting his tears, but he kisses him as deep as he’s fucking into him, like he’s trying to get as deep into Wooyoung as he can. _Mine,_ his eyes scream when he pulls away.

And by all means does Wooyoung hate possessiveness—but when it’s San who looks at him like Wooyoung is his entire world, it’s not that. It’s just an affirmation, that Wooyoung is loved even when he’s annoying, and loud, and a slut, and begging for San’s cock or dishing it out on him, as hard as he can.

 _“Fuck,_ you made me cry,” Wooyoung almost sobs as San punches into his spot, harder and harder, driving Wooyoung up the bed and pulling his hands away from his neck. Their fingers tangle on the pillow next to Wooyoung’s head, San resting his weight on Wooyoung’s hands under his.

“I like seeing you cry.” _That,_ said with that smirk on San’s face, with that touch of a strain… Wooyoung moans, so on the edge it’s ridiculously painful by now, fat tears slipping down his eyes. He’s just… he can’t believe his life is like this.

San takes their tangled fingers and wraps them around Wooyoung’s cock, jerking him off together; Wooyoung cries out a loud noise at the first touch of their joined hands on him, and feels the pressure build in his stomach… higher and higher, more and more, until he frantically begs to let go.

“Can I come? Please, San-ah, I don’t think I can…” he doesn’t know what he’ll do if San says no, he’ll—

“Come,” San says, just that one word, and Wooyoung immediately lets go of the tension in his body, coming across their joined hands, his stomach, making a mess; barely two seconds pass and he feels San come inside him, feels the way his hand trembles in his, the way his come makes everything even slicker… Wooyoung moans, loving the feeling, the way the pleasure turns into an ache in just a second too long with their hands on his cock.

He wants to pull out. “ _No no no no,_ ” Wooyoung pulls him in, burying San’s face in his chest, wrapping his legs around his waist.

“Stay like this?” San mumbles, barely audible.

“Yes,” Wooyoung begs, and feels San let go to rest on him, his weight nothing but comforting.

And no matter what consequences there are for whatever mess this was—he feels happy.


End file.
